The Arrow of Apollo: Flight of the Phoenix
by Tianis
Summary: Set during Season One, the Galactica picks up a very interesting passenger. One that has a huge impact on Lee... N.B. Reposted chapters 1 to 7! You need to reread them!
1. Chapter 1

**ONE**

The sky was pricked with distant stars, and though they were hidden from the planet by a cover of clouds, all there knew that the stars were present – knew they always would be. As predictable as life itself. Continuous darts of light, making them guess what would be out there, what the next thing had in store for them. And those on the planet felt safe in that knowledge. Suddenly, the tranquillity of it all was disturbed by a bright flash of light. And the knowledge was lost forever.

The _Galactica_ completed the FTL jump without problems and Commander Adama sighed with exhausted satisfaction. He could see the planet ahead of them – hopefully this one would provide a good source of supplies. It hung listlessly in its own orbit, clouds covering most of the surface. A sudden rending roar shook through the CIC, and Adama looked up sharply. The radios burst into crackling life with rapid voices and the sounds of combat.

"Apollo?" he asked into a headset.

"Not me," Captain Apollo replied. "Them. Look." Ahead of their fleet was a battle, raging in full blazoned colour. "Looks like Raiders, but what they've caught beats me." The Vipers and Raptors hovered close to the fleet, like some strange swarm of flies, as their pilots observed the scene. Small, iron-black fighter-ships were diving and twisting amongst the Raiders with unerring speed and skill. They were flat and arrow-head shaped, their sharp noses tipped with silver, and long stripes of colour – red, green, blue or yellow – ran down the middle of their underneath, and their wings dove back in long, straight lines, the cockpit seemed to be seamlessly smoothed into the arrow shape. "What are they?"

"I don't know. Dualla! Get that radio jargon understandable." Dualla nodded and worked on the radio waves until a distinctively clear, though distant, voice could be heard. The CIC went silent.

"_Red Two, Red Two, this is Red One, pull out now… y'hear me Red Two? RED TWO – get out!_" the sharp overtones of a clipped, female voice even made Adama raise an eyebrow. "_This is Red One, Red Two: pull out!_"

"_No can-do boss, I've got that bastard in my sights,_" replied a male.

"_You've got them all around you, pull out!_"

"_I'm cool boss, I can manage it._"

"_Don't defy my orders Red Two. I'll soon as ground you as look at you if you don't pull out now._" A streaking formation of green-emblazoned fighters made a wide arc around the main battle zone and dove straight through the fray, the voices and commands of those pilots muffling the ongoing argument.

"_Who died and made you Queen, Red One?_"

"_Red Two, she ain't kidding. Pull out,_" another voice added.

"_I can handle it. I'm the best goddamn Starfighter on the squadron._"

"_Don't piss me off, Red Two,_" the woman warned. "_BLUE SIX! They're on your tail! Yellow squadron, break formation or you're dead. And GODDAMMIT Red Two! Obey my orders!_"

"_Right now I'm sticking my finger up at you, boss,_" the male responded good-naturedly. "_Don't worry, I've got him._"

"Sounds like Starbuck," Gaeta grinned under his breath. The sounds and blasts of combat filled the waves for a moment, and all conversation was drowned out. The CIC watched as two Raiders honed in on one of the arrow-like ships, with a red streak down its underbelly.

"They're gonna nuke him," Adama hissed, gripping the rail in front of him until his knuckles turned white. Sure enough, a blinding flash and delayed boom confirmed it.

"_CCHHAARRLLIIEE!_" screamed the woman on the radio. With knee-jerk speed, another red-striped fighter swung round and tore after the two Raiders.

"Frak," Adama cursed as the Raiders and fighter spiralled towards the planet, the Cylon ships turning with frightening ease and pursuing the fighter which had now isolated itself from the group. "Apollo, they haven't noticed us yet, see if you can't give them a hand down there."

- - -

When the blips had appeared on the radar, Captain Dagger couldn't believe it. They had appeared from nowhere, and thrown off most of their power – communication back to Central and to the other posts had died. Without thinking, Alexandra Dagger issued the command for all Starfighters to go up. How she regretted that decision. Her Arrow soared towards the unidentified crafts, and she watched with disbelief and dismay as the accompanying Eagles, larger and by far the more powerful of their fleet, had simply lost all power and been obliterated in a matter of seconds. The following dogfight was fierce and dangerous. Sweat beaded her temples beneath her helmet and her fingers felt slick on the controls. When Charlie Harper had directed himself into the suicide mission, Alex had sworn and instantly instructed him to abort. The cocky, self-righteous son-of-a-bitch that he was, he refused. Alex tried to switch this way and that to shake her own pursuer, whilst trying to keep together what remained of her fleet.

"_I've got him_." His words rang in her ears, long after the blast had left her skull feeling shattered. She stared at the emptiness that had once been the best Starfighter on the squadron.

"CCHHAARRLLIIEE!" she screamed, trying to tear her lungs with the shout, hoping that it might, just might, bring him back. _You disgusting bastards,_ was the only thought in her mind as she honed in on the two ships that had killed him.

In all her time in the military, as trainee through to captain, she had never lost her cool. And the one time that she decided to go with her guts, and use her emotions to drive, it cost her. Before Alex could blink, the ships had rounded on her and were taking aim. She swore again, banking away from the rapidly approaching planet atmosphere and tried to shake her attachments. She had to swerve hard to avoid the tumbling, fiery wreck of Green One – the last of the green squadron. As she righted herself from the weird angle she found herself flying the Arrow, she felt a judder ripple through the ship.

"Shit, I've been hit!" she called into the radio, as her right wing burst into flames, the thick, oily smoke pouring through the vents into her cockpit and obscuring her view. She coughed, and tried to veer away from anywhere dangerous. The Arrow began to spin, downwards towards the planet, tugged by the atmosphere's gravity. "I've been hit! I'm going down!" she yelled, but got nothing in return but static. For a heart-stopping moment, the smoke cleared, to reveal the ground approaching at sickening speed. Just for a moment, above the roar and rage of the crash, she swore she heard the faint crackle of a voice in her earpiece.

"_We'll find you, Red One._" Then the world went black.

-

There was nothing left to help with. As Red One hit the ground, the Raiders finished the remnants of the fighters, and the surprise appearance of Vipers and Raptors sped them on their way. Captain Lee Adama checked with the others, before flying in formation to the planet's surface. Landing was easy; the wide, open expanses gave easy purchase. He scanned for noxious gases, and, finding it safe, proceeded to leave the Viper. Starbuck joined him.

"What are we looking for?" she asked sceptically, staring at the charred wreck of Green One.

"Life," Lee replied. He wandered around, scanning the area, before pointing. "There. It looks mostly in one piece, though I wouldn't give it long by the looks of that smoke." They approached it carefully.

"Are you sure she'll still be alive?" A shot rang out, zipping past her ear. They both instinctively ducked and Lee chuckled.

"Yep," he answered, before calling out: "hold your fire! We're friends!" This was answered with another shot. They could vaguely see a shape in the cockpit, and tried to duck out of sight before creeping nearer.

Alex swore, yanking at her leg until she felt the warm trickle of blood where it was trapped beneath her controls. She heard voices, and saw two figures moving closer. Firing a warning shot, she yanked harder on her leg.

"C'mon, c'mon!" she hissed desperately. "Shit." One of the approaching figures called out, and Alex shot at them again. "_C'mon_!" Using the butt of her gun, she beat the controls, until it began to yield and dent. Smoke was filling the cockpit, and she could smell burning fuel. She didn't have long. With a cry of pain, she threw her weight into the controls, and felt them move slightly. She gritted her teeth and growled out curses as she heaved and pushed, her muscles straining her in arms and shoulders. She felt the weight loose from her leg and with tremendous effort, she pulled it free. It had deep cuts marking where the metal had sliced into her. She couldn't put any weight on it, that was for sure. "Shit."

Lee and Kara Thrace were close enough to see the shape take form – the woman was lithe and blonde, her flight suit torn and dirtied, blood and filth smudging her face. Her helmet was sitting a little way away from her, as if she had thrown it. A gun lay at her fingertips, and she seemed to be moving out of the craft.

"We mean you no harm," Lee shouted, and saw her look up sharply. He opened his mouth to say more, but a boom announced the engine had blown up. Debris soared metres high, and the pair felt the ball of heat roll off the explosion. In the ringing silence that followed, they looked up, not daring to hope the woman had survived. Fire and smoke wreathed the crashed craft.

"Well, doesn't look like she made it," Kara shrugged. Lee glared at her, his heart sinking already. "Holy frak!" she yelped. Lee looked round to see the coughing, stumbling form of the woman emerging from the smoke. He leapt up and ran towards her, but froze as the woman pointed her gun in his direction.

"Stay back," she warned, already losing her balance and slipping to one knee, her useless leg stuck out at an angle. He stepped forward as she started to cough again. "Stay _back!_" she hissed, spitting blood from her split lip.

"We're friends. We've come to help."

"Help?" she laughed mockingly, falling further to the floor. "We're beyond help." She blinked, warding away the darkness that crept into the edge of her vision. Slowly, she wavered and began to topple, her gun falling from her grasp. Lee darted forward, catching her before she cracked her head on the ground. She frowned at him through peridot eyes, barely able to see beyond the spots that danced in front of her sight. "You can't help."

- - -

When Alex woke, she was lying in bed with her leg bandaged and stitched, and a drip in her arm. Groaning, she covered her eyes with a hand, trying to free her groggy head of the vice that was splitting her skull in two. Slowly, as the throbbing subsided, she looked up at the stark white ceiling. She could hear the faint rumble of human life and engines. Slowly sitting up, she took in her surroundings. It looked like a sickbay, but not the one from Central. Glancing round, nothing gave her a clue of where she was. It was empty, and the other beds showed no signs of life.

"Shit," she whispered. What if those… those _things_ had got her? She had to get out. They'd taken her flight suit from her, but she was still in her tank top and trousers. Her boots were by her bed. Carefully, she removed the drip, wincing at the sting of the needle. Slipping her feet into the shoes, she was comforted by the feel of the blade she kept hidden in her left boot. Her gun was nowhere in sight, so Alex decided to risk it. Standing, she tested her weight on her bad leg. Not bad, but could do with a bit more rest, she guessed, but decided she couldn't waste time. She tried the door. Locked. She looked around. Nothing. "Shit," she repeated, slumping back onto her bed. "Well, Captain Dagger. What's your plan now, huh?" Grumpily, she fingered at a bandage around her upper arm. "Burns," she murmured with a frown, not remembering how she'd been burnt. She inspected her hands, riddled with slices from shards of glass and metal, and bruised across the knuckles. She checked her face in a tray that lay on a table nearby – a fat lip and bruised cheekbone seemed the only damage, as well as a stitched cut above her eye. It dipped from the inner corner of her right eyebrow, at an angle across her eyelid to just below the outer corner of her eye. "Wow," she gingerly touched it. "I could have been blinded."

"Sure you could, but we managed to salvage your eye," announced a 5ravely voice. Alex stood and spun, instantly aware of the pain shooting through her leg. "It should heal fairly quickly, and you may have a little scar, but nothing as bad as it looks now," the man smiled. He was a doctor, by his attire. He had a shock of white hair, with two grey eyebrows rather like large beetles, above a glinting pair of eyes. His voice was rough from too many years smoking.

"Who… who are you? Where am I?"

"Doctor Connell. You're aboard the Battlestar _Galactica_."

"Doctor, I –" a man appeared at the doorway, but stopped at the sight of Alex, who looked like a trapped animal, her eyes darting about the room and the tense tremble of her muscles visible. Doctor Connell turned to speak, and Alex took her chance. The man seemed a little stunned by her, and took his unguarded response as her escape route. She dived for him, forcefully shoving him against the doorway and knocking the wind from his chest. She ran down the corridor, her feet clanging against the metal gangway. She rounded a corner and nearly ran smack into another man. She managed a quick switch of feet around him – the stitches in her leg tearing – but cried out as his arm snaked about her waist. She struggled frantically, kicking out in every direction with fists and feet alike as the man physically restrained her, pushing her against the cold metal wall. She found herself face to face, his entire body pinning her down, his fingers tight about her wrists. She could feel blood seeping through the bandages and down into her boot.

"Well," the man smiled; a flash of blue eyes, an angled jaw, "hello again." Alex frowned, a second of recognition.

"Ah, Captain Apollo," Doctor Connell smiled thankfully as he came across them. "You caught her." Lee looked around.

"You missing one, Doc?" Alex lashed out, the crown of her head connecting loudly with his chin. "Frak!" he yelped, letting go with one hand cover his mouth. Alex pushed with all her might, using her now free hand and slam a palm into his chest and cause him to lose his balance. She was off and running again, her lungs already burning with desperate exertion.

"No!" she screamed as she was tackled to the ground, opening new cuts on her elbows. She twisted in his grasp as Lee Adama once again pinned her down.

"Oh no you don't," he announced triumphantly as she tried to head butt him again, "not this time." She had split his lip – his mouth reddened from the blood. As he waited for the doctor to come, he tasted it with his tongue and gave a look of amused respect. "It's not often a female patient gets one up on me. Though you pack a hell of a punch." Alex replied with a feral grin.

"Let go of my hands and I'll show you what I really can do." He cocked an eyebrow.

"Maybe later, eh, Sparky?" Growling, she renewed her struggles.

"Get off, you filthy son-of-a-bitch murderer."

"Murderer!" he sounded genuinely surprised. "Hey, I'm the one that saved your ass, okay? Now, quit with the insulting and fighting and let us help you." She responded by narrowly missing him again with her head. "Frakking bitch," he muttered as Doctor Connell appeared with a couple of guys and a needle. Alex renewed her struggles at the sight of the injection, but this time Lee had help. As the world dimmed to forgiving blackness, Alex looked up at Lee.

"You can't help," she spat.

-

"Are the restraints really necessary?" President Roslin asked unsurely, observing their unconscious passenger. She lay in the sickbay, tight straps around her wrists and ankles, observed by the President and Commander Adama as well as Kara.

"I should say so," Lee announced, brushing away blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "She nearly knocked me out." Kara hid her grin, but Lee spotted it and glared. "We should leave her," he added.

"No," Laura Roslin quickly stepped in. "We're here for as long as we can before the Cylons come, and then we leave. With _everyone_." She turned away from the woman. "She probably fought because she thought we were the enemy. Have we any way of detecting if she's a Cylon yet?"

"No, but Baltar is working on it, and I've instructed him to make her top priority," Adama said.

"Bet she is a toaster," Lee growled.

"But until we know for sure, she is to be treated as a human casualty." The woman in the bed moaned, her brows tightening in a frown and head rolling to one side. "Does anyone know her name?"

"I can think of a few."

"Captain Apollo, I think that's enough," Laura sharply reprimanded. "Doctor, call me when she wakes up."

"Yes, Madam President." Laura left, closely followed by Adama. Connell quietly went on his business about the sickbay, as Lee and Kara looked down at the patient. Her vanilla-coloured hair was in its plait, hanging to one side of her face. She had freckles across her nose, which before had barely been evident under the smudges of dirt. She had full, pink lips, slightly parted as she dreamt. Her muscles were lean and defined under her smooth skin. She didn't look tough enough to be a fighter pilot as she lay, vulnerable, in a drug-induced coma. The throb of Lee's lip reminded him of her deceptive strength, but there was something almost too… _feminine_ about her.

"What you thinking?" Kara asked, nudging him.

"Her eyes are green," Lee replied quietly, distractedly.

"Huh?"

"Her eyes are green. Bright, bright green. Like a semi-precious stone green."

"So?"

"So… I'm probably one of two people that have actually seen them yet."

"What's your point?"

"They don't look like Cylon eyes."

"How do you know what Cylon eyes look like? They all look the same as us." Lee just shrugged – he couldn't explain that it was the _look_ in her eyes. "Frak, Lee, you fancy her!" Kara grinned.

"Frak off. That little bitch nearly knocked my front teeth out."

"Hey, maybe you like it like that. Bit of dominatrix violence." Lee replied with a sharp thump on her upper arm and stalking out. Kara glanced down to the patient and grinned widely. "Boy, is he gonna be mad when you don't like him back," she told the unconscious woman. She left, leaving Alex to live her dreams; tied up in the bed she was so desperate to be free of.

- - - - - -

The metal-tipped pin heels of a pair of red shoes rapped a staccato on the pavement as the woman wound her way in and out of the pedestrian traffic. She wore a pair of black trousers, white shirt and red vest top, her pale blonde hair pinned back in a chignon by a red pencil. Over her shoulder she carried a red leather handbag with gold buckles She was heatedly arguing into a mobile phone.

"Look, Charlie, I can handle Frasier on my own, okay? I'm a grown woman."

"I know Al, but Frasier can be really brutal –" came the answer down the phone.

"I'll be brutal back."

"That's what I'm afraid of!" Charlie laughed.

"Look, I'd better go, I'm here."

"Okay. Play nice."

"I don't promise anything," she grinned. Alex hung up and entered the tall glass building and approached the front desk. "Lieutenant Dagger to see General Frasier?"

"One moment, Lieutenant Dagger," replied the receptionist. She phoned through to Frasier's office and spoke in quiet undertones. Hanging up, she smiled at Alex and announced: "General Frasier's ready to see you. Office four-one-two. Elevator to the fourth floor, hang a left and it's on your right."

"Thanks," Alex took the elevator up, the gold-mirrored walls reflecting her grim face. The doors pinged open and an office clerk stepped aside to let her through. She managed a tense smile before following the receptionist's directions and knocking on the thick oak door of office 412.

"Enter," answered a thick voice. General Jack Frasier was cantankerous old man with a penchant for Shakespeare, sushi and Cuban cigars. Heavily set – both in frame and in his ways – he struck a posing figure with a shock of white hair (in military buzz-cut) and pale blue eyes beneath a grave brow. His badge glinted under the light, and his uniform was starched to regimented perfection. "Ah, Miss Dagger. Take a seat." He indicated a worn chair opposite his wide desk. She obediently sat, her beg tucked by her feet. "I hope you know why I've called you here."

"I do, sir, and if I may do so, I'd like to first say that the whole thing was completely my idea. The blame rests firmly on my shoulders sir." Frasier settled his bulk into a sagging leather chair and regarded her with vague interest.

"Good, that's what I like to hear," he paused. "A lieutenant taking responsibility." Alex waited tensely, knowing what was to come. "The whole damn thing was a fiasco, Miss Dagger, no doubt about it."

"Now, sir, it was not an _entire_ fiasco. The mission in itself was a success, it was just the execution of –" He cut her off by raising a hand.

"Ah, 'the lady doth protest too much'!" Alex gritted her teeth.

"If there is to be a court marshal, sir, I fully intend to take it wholly by myself and argue my case to the judge as I deem my decision right in those circumstances and –" Frasier once again cut her off, an amused glint in his eye as he slowly rested his hand back on the table. He observed her in silence for a moment.

"Bit of a sparky one, ain't we, Miss Dagger?" She blushed. "I think you've got it entirely wrong however. I did not call you here for a court marshal. I called you here for a promotion." By the time Alex had gotten control of her senses again, Frasier was shaking her hand and congratulating her. "Well done, Captain Dagger. You are now in charge of the red squadron."

"I… uh… excuse me sir, but red squadron of what?" Frasier cracked the biggest grin he could manage.

"Well, Captain, you are about to be one of the first people to experience the outer quadrants of Earth."


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

"She's not Cylon," Baltar announced confidently to his audience. "Undoubtedly human." He hesitated, but decided it best not to mention the anomalies of his testing or to explain that he hadn't _actually_ got a Cylon detector yet, he was just testing her sample randomly. Laura sighed with relief.

"It's good to know that," she said, removing her glasses and rubbing her eyes. "Right. Well, as soon as you can, Commander, I think we're quite ready to leave."

"Yes Madam President," Adama nodded, turning to leave. The door burst open, and one of the guards that had been set to watch the patient burst in.

"Sorry to interrupt," he gasped, "but she's awake and demanding to see you, Madam President." The company shared looks. "Well, the leader," he hastily added.

"Well," Laura smiled quietly. "This should be interesting."

Alex was straining against her straps, her jaw set determinedly, as Laura and several others walked in. She looked up accusingly.

"Let me free," she growled. Laura raised an eyebrow and folded her arms.

"First, my name is President Laura Roslin of the Twelve Colonies. You are?" Alex eyed her up and down. The woman was no-nonsense, and had an air of jaded justice about her. She chewed her lip and relaxed a moment.

"Let me free and I'll talk rationally." Laura nodded to Lee, who reluctantly stepped forward. Alex grinned widely. "Well, hello again," she mimicked. She sat up, rubbing her wrists tenderly and turned to Laura.

"My name is Captain Alexandra Dagger, Starfighter red squadron, Arrow Red One." There was momentary silence.

"I see," Laura said quietly, not really seeing at all, and slowly sat down in a nearby chair and clasped her hands together between her knees. "Now we've established names, what can I do for you, Captain Dagger?"

"I want you to set me back down on the planet you found me on and leave." Commander Adama spread his hands wide.

"We haven't left yet," he smiled grimly. Alex stared at him warily.

"Why not? What do you want?"

"Supplies," he answered. Alex curled a lip.

"Those flying monsters you sent didn't seem too friendly, and definitely weren't asking for supplies."

"They weren't ours. We helped you," Laura interjected calmly before Adama could protest. "They were Cylon Raiders. We jumped here in the hope that this star system would yield essential supplies for our fleet, and jumped right into the middle of the fight. We helped as soon as we could."

"You didn't save many, did you?" Alex yelled, waving a hand at the empty beds; ignoring her momentary confusion about the term 'jump', she let her rage control her words and spat them at her audience, wishing they were bullets.

"We tried," Lee snapped. "And you weren't too welcoming! Shooting at us when we tried to help you from your crash."

"Well, I wish I wasn't such a lousy shot 'cause you still seem to be standing," Alex snarled. Lee's jaw tightened. He was quite good-looking, Alex observed. Cropped auburn hair and sapphire blue eyes, so dark with emotion they were almost midnight. He had a grazing of stubble over a strong jaw, and his lips curved downwards at the corners. He was tall, well-built, with muscles flexing easily in his arms as he controlled his rage. "Look," she turned back to Laura, "all I ask is that I be put down and left in peace."

"We can't do that, I'm afraid," Adama announced.

"Why not?" Laura asked.

"Yea, why not?" Alex protested.

"Because the Cylons will be back. You'd die." Everyone looked a little surprised at the outburst of human conscience. "Those raiders were just a recon team. They've no doubt gone back to the Base Ship and reported not only that there's life on the planet but that _we're_ here too. Leaving you behind jeopardises you and us."

"I'll be fine. I can get the squadrons back together and –"

"What squadrons?" Lee asked sharply. "No one else survived." Alex paled, her eyes widening. She covered her mouth with shaking fingers.

"Wh-what?"

"There's no one else left." There was silence. Then Alex turned and retched over the side of the bed. Lee leapt back as it narrowly missed his boots, but couldn't avoid it covering his toes. He groaned in frustration – this woman would be the frakking end of him if she wasn't careful.

"We should leave you be." Laura rose to leave.

"Wait! If we're still here… can… can I ask a favour?" Alex asked, wiping her mouth. Laura shrugged and nodded. "I want to get some things," the captain whispered, "from the Command Centre."

-

They had agreed, but supplies had to be finished being shipped in, and that would take several hours – possibly a full day. And Doctor Connell had flatly refused to let her out of bed for at least a day to let her stitches begin to take effect. Alex lay in her bed, staring at the white ceiling. Her leg was itching, but she'd been banned from scratching it. She looked over to the chair. Lee sat there, patiently watching her with his arms resting on his knees, his six-sided dog tags hanging away from his chest. They were imprinted with strange symbols, and Alex looked at them for a moment, before making eye contact.

"Do you enjoy watching me?" she snapped. He shrugged.

"Just trying to figure you out."

"Oh yea?" She propped herself up on an elbow and tilted her head and stared at him. "Figured it out yet?" He glared. She flopped back onto her back. "What's the deal with you anyway? You wanted to get real close back there in the corridor, then you can't get far enough away, now you seem to think I'm some sort of freak show put here for your own amusement. Your daddy put you in charge of me now?"

"If you must know, yes. How did you know he was my dad?"

"Duh – Captain Adama. Commander Adama. Doesn't take a genius." She glanced across. "You really can stop staring." He grinned widely at her.

"Still trying to figure you out."

"Don't." A moment's pause, in which Lee sat back into the chair.

"What's an Arrow?" he asked. She stared at him in shock.

"Are you serious?" He nodded. "An Arrow – it's the fighter plane I flew. Why? What do you call your hunks of junk?" He flashed her a small, wry smile.

"Depends which hunk-of-junk you're referring to. Raptors or Vipers."

"Don't care. Neither saved our asses," she answered bitterly.

"I saved yours." She had a flash of memory – of seeing that face before. It was hot, and she hurt, and somewhere, light flickered shadows over his face. Okay, so he probably _had_ really saved her. But she still didn't quite remember.

"Yea, remind me to thank you for that someday. Getting me trapped here with a bum leg and a bunch of clowns staring at me." At this point she glared accusingly at him. "Now I'm stuck here, with no way to get home."

"Isn't this planet your home?"

"Are you kidding me? No, this is – _was_ – just an outpost in the outer quadrants. There are seven more like it. Great piles of rock they stick their 'bad' recruits out on so we don't go fucking up military business back home."

"Fucking?" Alex frowned at him. "New word for me," he pleaded, raising his hands.

"Oh, now you're taking the piss," she laughed.

"You're not worth the effort. Indulge me."

"Fucking. Fuck. As in – fuck off, fuck you, fucked up, bla, bla, bla."

"Ohhh. You mean _frak_."

"No. I definitely mean fuck. I'm beginning to wonder whether I shouldn't be the one staring at _you_ laid up in bed." There was silence again. Alex's leg began to itch. "How long has it been?" Lee glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Couple of hours."

"Shit." She rubbed her face with her hands. "So how did I get burnt?"

"In the crash."

"I don't remember." Lee sighed heavily and stared down at his now-clean boots.

"You were hit by one of the Raiders you'd gone after. Planet's gravitational pull sucked you in and you went down. Lucky you weren't burnt up on re-entry, but you hit the ground and your engine blew up. We got there just as it blew."

"Who's we?"

"Kara and I. Lieutenant Thrace."

"Oh." She picked at a bandage on her arm. "So how did I get out alive?"

"Good question. We thought you were gone, but somehow you stumbled out the fire." They lapsed into silence. Okay, so she wasn't as bad as he had first thought. Though she could do with a lot of improvements. "Captain Dagger?"

"Yea."

"Where _is_ your home?" She looked across at him carefully. He looked so human, she mused. Was he really though? Or was he just an alien? In all the years she'd ever experienced outer space, for all its ups and downs, she'd never seen proof of life elsewhere. Could these people… aliens… whatever they were… be it? She looked away. "You're human, but you're not from the Colonies. So where _are_ you from?"

"Doesn't matter." She bit her lip.

- - -

The quarters were small and plain – a single bunk, desk and chair and a small sink by a narrow cupboard. Lee looked around the room from the door, arms folded across his chest, as Alex limped about, collecting things and putting them in her rucksack. Clothes, a spare pair of boots, a couple of books. She opened her cupboard a final time and took something that had been tacked to the inside of the door. She looked at the photo for a second, her fingertips brushing over it lovingly. She glanced up and saw Lee, and hastily shoved it in her bag.

"Okay, let's go." They began to walk down the corridor, when Alex stopped by a door. "Wait, one more thing." She darted through the door before Lee could protest. He followed her into a big repair-hangar. She ran her hands affectionately over the abandoned desks and instruments as she walked towards one of the fighter planes. Lee moved closer as Alex reached up and touched the nose of the craft. "Hey, girly," she murmured softly. "How ya doing?" She wandered along the edge of it, and then ducked under the left wing, moving her fingers across something engraved there. Lee ducked under too, and saw the carved letters:

RED ONE

'GOLDEN BIRD'

A red streak ran across the craft's belly. Ignoring Lee, she ducked back out again and hoisted herself gingerly onto the enormous wingspan by a small ladder. "An Arrow only has one way in and one way out," she explained, pointing to the clear roof of the cockpit. "Seats one fighter pilot, runs two engines, one in each wing, and can shoot three hundred rounds a minute – not so much, but Arrow pilots are the best aims in the fleet." She grinned down at him. "So we make 'em count."

"This your Arrow?"

"Yep." Alex sat and swung her legs over the edge of the wing. "She was in for repairs – some of the engine had blown on a practice flight and I'd busted half the landing gear in the emergency landing." She grimaced. "It wasn't my best." She stared down at her hands. "I was flying a substitute Arrow. Old and beat up – pile of crap. This baby," she patted the metal, "is top of the range brand-new. The only one on the fleet, at the moment. I was test-flying her and she was a dream until the engine blew." Lee smiled sadly. "Sure love this thing." There was a hesitation. "I couldn't…"

"Couldn't what?"

"Couldn't take her with me, could I?" Alex looked desperately hopeful. Lee grimaced, clearly reluctant. "Look, if I'm going with you, I'm gonna want to fly and I sure as hell ain't flying one of your beasts. I saw them as we came down – huge and lumpy and I'll bet a damn-sight worse at steering than my girl." Lee still looked unconvinced.

"Does it still work against Cylon technology?" Alex shrugged.

"Don't know. Is there a way of testing it?"

"Sure. Aim it at some Raiders and see if you come out alive." She jumped down and picked up her rucksack.

"Guess it's a no then," she sighed. She made to leave, then stopped. "Can I make it work against Cylon technology?" He shrugged. "Well… then at least… take her with us so you can use her for parts." She winced at the words, deciding she'd rather die than let them dismantle Golden Bird.

"Let me check with the Commander." Alex reluctantly agreed. As they were leaving to return to the _Galactica_, she turned to him curiously.

"So, why is it that you don't call him dad?" Lee clenched his jaw. He really was quite good-looking when he did that. And he did have very expressive eyebrows.

"Long story."

"Hey, it looks like I'm in for the long-haul." She playfully slapped him on the shoulder. "You can save it for a boring day." Lee laughed.

"You've obviously never been on a Battlestar before. Nothing's ever boring!"

"Good. I like it that way." She climbed aboard the Raptor and settled herself in the co-pilot seat, next to Sharon. Lee snuggled himself next to Crashdown.

"Let's go Boomer," he announced and Lieutenant Sharon Valerii grinned.

"Yessir." Boomer's flying was smooth and skilful, and Alex loved every second of it. Her favourite place was in the cockpit – silence. Nothing but her own thoughts for company. She and Charlie had often just gone up to let off some steam – play around with their Arrows, let go of anger or frustration or whatever other emotion had been thrown at them. They played 'chicken' and chased each other round and round until their noses touched midair. She could talk about anything out there. And she used to. Alex used to whisper her secrets to each star she saw in front of her, and wonder what their replies would be if they could whisper back. She looked at them now as they flew towards the _Galactica_. She still could pick out the one that had harboured her biggest secret. She mouthed it silently to herself now, reminding herself of when it had just been them and the big nothing. When everyone had been alive and their greatest issue was who had used all the hot water for the showers. "You talking to yourself?" Sharon asked, glancing across.

"Huh? No," Alex blushed. Sharon grinned.

"You should meet our resident genius. Has himself an invisible friend too."

"I wasn't talking to myself," she retorted shortly.

"Who were you talking to then?"

"No one. It doesn't matter." She looked down at her hands in her lap, and then to her bag that sat by her chair. She could feel the picture burning through at her – urging her to look. She gritted her teeth and looked away, concentrating on the landing as they finally came in to the _Galactica_.

-

She had been given her own quarters – not a rack with the other officers. The empty storeroom next door was to be converted, Commander Adama had instructed. The storeroom was small and minimal – a fold-out bed, desk and wobbly chair and a sink that didn't run hot water. As she was hanging the last of her minimal clothes on a metal rail running along one wall, there was a knock at the door.

"Yea?" she called, not looking around.

"Captain Dagger?" She turned sharply at Lee's voice. "There's something I think you should see." She frowned.

"Is it serious?"

"Should say so." She anxiously followed him, wondering why he was taking her to the hangar deck.

"What's the matter? Has something happened?" she persisted as he led her down the steps onto the deck. He pointed, and she followed the direction of his finger. "Holy fuck!" she yelped. Sitting, slightly lopsidedly, with orange-suited specialists surrounding it, was her Arrow. She darted forwards – somewhat hampered by her leg – and rested her hands on the cooling metal. "How did you…"

"Flew her," answered a woman. She was removing her flight suit and running a hand through her short blonde hair. She had wide, honest brown eyes and a mouth that looked ready to fall into a smile at any given moment.

"You flew her?" Alex asked, gobsmacked. Lee folded his arms over his chest and grinned as the woman set down her helmet on a table and wriggled out the top half of her flight suit. "She's got an engine down and half her landing gear's bust!" She approached the blonde.

"Yep. Bumpy ride back here, but in full flight, I can tell she's sweet as. My Gods, your people can really pick their planes. She's a dream." The woman smiled and Alex laughed, and held out a hand.

"You must be Lieutenant Thrace." They shook.

"Yea. You're Captain Dagger. Good to see you awake for once." Alex laughed again.

"Name's Alex."

"Then I'm Kara. Or Starbuck's my callsign if you prefer." She glanced to Lee. "Lucky you're popular with Apollo here, or your Arrow wouldn't have been brought for the ride aboard good old _Galactica_."

"I wouldn't say I was popular. I'd say he wanted a closer look." Alex returned to her Arrow and clambered onto the wing before slipping into the cockpit.

"At you or the Arrow?" Kara murmured, and Lee shot her a dirty glare.

Alex introduced herself to Chief Tyrol, who sat on her left wing. She ran her hands over the controls, feeling the familiar bumps and grooves of the stick and buttons. The seat curled along her back like a lover.

"This thing fully manual?" Tyrol asked.

"Yep. There's autopilot but I've got a thing against machines flying me around." He laughed and nodded in agreement.

"You're gonna get on fine," he stated. "I don't know much about this plane –"

"Arrow."

"Arrow. So I would appreciate help on getting her up and running and user-friendly against the Cylons." Alex nodded. "Great. I've already had a quick run-down of the Arrow's system. There's a few things that we need to change so she won't get shut down in combat, but other than that, she's good to go once the engine's back." Alex was only half paying attention, as she familiarised herself again with the dials and switches along the dashboard. Tyrol rose to go. "Oh, one more thing. I couldn't find the FTL drive. She got one?"

"The what?" Alex asked blankly.

"Guess not," Tyrol laughed, jumping down from the wing. He shook his head at Lee as he passed him, still grinning to himself.

"She looks like she wants to frak the thing," Lee commented to Kara, who was out her flight suit and guzzling water like she had moments to live. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she replied:

"I would if I could," before turning to leave. Lee followed her.

"That good?"

"Better."

- - - - - -

Charlie grinned at her behind Frasier's back. She widened her eyes at him and shook her head – indicating that he should behave. Frasier was puffing on a cigar, clearly stressed, as they stood before gleaming rows of brand new Arrows.

"These babies are straight off the production line. Nothing like 'em anywhere else in the world. Each squadron has six of them, the numbers made up by Eagles," he said, pointing to further rows of the bigger, bulkier crafts. "You'll be flying in the red squadron of Arrows." Charlie whistled slowly.

"Red Arrows, huh?" Alex elbowed him sharply. "So. When do we get to fly these things?" he continued, unfazed. Frasier blew air out his nose slowly and loudly to display his obvious annoyance.

"You'll get a chance to fly them when you're at your posts."

"Which is where, exactly, sir?" Charlie persisted.

"Lieutenant Harper," Alex snapped. Charlie just shrugged. "Sir, with all due respect, we have not been given our coordinates yet."

"Nor will you. You and your squadrons of Starfighters will be put aboard the ship _Hercules_ and taken to your destination. Fighter planes like these will not be able to make the journey itself." There was utter silence amongst the three as Alex digested the news. It didn't make for a nice taste.

"I see sir," she said evenly. "So we're taking to an outer quadrant, with no knowledge of our position and how to get back, and left?"

"You're making it sound worse than it is, Captain."

"No, sir, I don't think I am." Alex glared at him, her jaw set. "The Starfighters are to be made up of expendable candidates, am I right, General? Recruits with bad attitudes or without the aptitude to kiss your ass just the way you like it."

"That is enough, Captain Dagger."

"No, sir, it's not. You're stranding people that you think will undermine the military reputation. We're not worth being here, so you're sending us to God knows where, isn't that right!"

"You've said _enough_, Captain," Frasier snarled. "Dismissed." Alex saluted sharply, resisting the urge to swing the arm down hard enough and wide enough to hit him, and turned on her heel and stormed out.

- - - - - -

"Prepare for FTL jump in 10… 9… 8…" Alex looked around bewildered as everyone sat down.

"What's an FTL jump?" she hissed to a nearby specialist. He frowned at her, and replied;

"You might want to sit down for this." She obediently sat down.

"5… 4… 3…"

"What's a – woah," she broke off, swallowing down the sudden lurch of nausea that grabbed at her throat. Her stomach felt weightless and lurched threateningly towards her boots and springing back up again. She squeezed her eyes tight shut to stop the world spinning. All of a sudden, it stopped. And the abruptness of the return to normality was more nauseating than the lurch. She fought back the bile. "Wha – what the hell was that?" she gasped as the specialist helped her shakily to her feet. He grinned widely.

"Congratulations, Captain. Most rookies spew on their first faster-than-light jump."

"That wasn't my first," she admitted. She remembered being aboard the _Hercules_ and feeling the same jolt. That's how they had got to their quadrant… "But is that what it is? Huh. How far can you go on one jump?" The specialist shrugged.

"Far as you like, I guess," he replied, already wandering away.


	3. Chapter 3

**THREE**

Days aboard the _Galactica_, and this was the best it got. Alex watched the game of cards with interest. This was certainly nothing she had seen before. She accepted the bright green alcohol without complaint, and wasn't surprised to find that it tasted as good as its name – Ambrosia. Her cigar hung from her fingers, and her dog tags felt warm in her palm where she held them.

"Care to play, Captain?" enquired Doctor Baltar. Boomer had been right – the man was out of his mind, and also seemed to think he was far more attractive than he was. She raised a hand.

"No thanks."

"Not one to risk anything?"

"Not my game." She smiled tightly at him as he carefully processed her words, looking into the empty corner with some apparent interest. She sipped at her drink slowly, trying to follow the game. Their money was different – but they had money – their cards were different – but they played card games familiar to her. Slowly, she started to recognise the different card symbols. Every now and then, Baltar would press for her participation. As one of them rose to leave, she took his chair. "I haven't got money, but I'll play," she offered.

"What have you got to bet?" Baltar asked. Alex glanced down; her watch, a ring, a necklace, her tags. She would only willingly give up the watch, but she'd been good at playing cards before. She reckoned she could risk it. She undid her watch and set it on the table. Baltar glanced at it. "Good watch," he commented, and dealt the cards.

She watched nervously as everyone raised their bets. Her watch was in there, as were her now useless dog tags. It was either the ring or the necklace. Slowly, she reached up and undid the clasp.

"Horseshoe necklace," she said quietly. "Silver. Brought me a hell of a lot of luck." She glanced up and caught Lee's eye. He was looking at her oddly, and she hastily looked back down at her hand, praying that she could win it back. They raised the bets. She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut as she removed her ring from her right hand. "Nine carat white-gold ring." She placed it on top of the pile. Crashdown reached forward and picked it up, turning it over and over in his hand.

"There's an inscription," he said, squinting to read the lettering on the inside of the ring. Alex glared defensively.

"Yea. So?" He put it down again, blushing. One by one, others withdrew, until it left Baltar, Lee and Alex.

"Well, I fold," Baltar sighed disappointedly. Alex eyed Lee up. He had a good hand, she could tell. His posture gave it away. She glanced down. She could fold, or she could risk it and hope for the best. She spread her cards.

"House," she murmured. There were hisses of impressed words. There was a hesitation as Lee looked right at her, something flickering in his eyes. He spread his cards. Alex didn't need to look to know she'd lost.

"Full colours," Lee said above the noise of the other players. She managed to twist a wry smile. Well, she supposed, it didn't matter much anyway. It was all worthless now she was aboard the _Galactica_. She looked at the ring as Lee picked it up and read the inscription. She could recite it without thinking twice. But she wouldn't let him know how much it meant to her. Baltar began to deal out the cards again, but she held up a hand to stop him.

"I'll duck out."

"Don't want to try and win it all back, Captain?" he asked, surprised. Alex smiled and spread her hands wide.

"Unless I bet clothes, I've got nothing left to play with." The quirk in Baltar's eyebrow indicated that he wasn't too objecting about betting clothes, but Alex ignored it and rose. "Well, see you round, gentlemen." She managed to get all the way to her cabin, and shut the door before the tears stung her eyes. She rested against the door, and beat her head on it. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," she berated herself.

-

Lee stopped at the doorway, and watched in bemused amazement. It was a big ship, but somehow they always seemed to end up in the same places. Alex was at the punch bag, her hands pounding it with ferocity. Sweat dripped down her neck and temples, her breath coming out ragged as she kicked and battered the bag. She was using her bare knuckles, protected only by thin bandaging, but he could tell she'd been going long enough to bruise. He stepped a little closer, listening to her mantra, each punch punctuating each word she spat out.

"Don't lose your cool. Don't lose your cool," she hissed. "Never, _ever_ _fucking_ LOSE YOUR COOL!" she screamed, thumping the bag so hard that it swung away from her anger. "Never fucking lose it! Never fucking lose control!" She went to spin-kick, and noticed him by the door. She froze as they made eye contact. Then, with a loud grunt, she clouted her foot into the bag. Her chest was heaving with exertion. Lee stepped towards her.

"You'll rip your stitches out," he said gently. She glared.

"Oh fuck off, like you care." She turned and began thumping the bag again. He rounded it and grabbed it from the other side, anchoring it against his body.

"You're right. I don't." She stopped, mid-punch.

"What do you want?" He smiled.

"Still trying to figure you out." She growled as she punched the bag again. "Whose face is it?" he enquired.

"Three guesses," she snapped, her foot landing where his chest would be. Lee raised an eyebrow. She started darting in heavy punches with both hands, her brow creased in concentration and the sweat slicking her hair to her cheeks.

"It's not mine," he began again, lightly.

"You sound so sure." He reached round and grabbed her wrist as she went for another punch. She wrenched it away.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, stepping away from him. They faced off for a moment, then she span and headed for the door.

"Stop being angry at yourself," he said after her. Alex stopped mid step, processing the words, then turned and lunged at him, screaming profanities and beating his chest. Frak, she was strong, he realised, snatching her wrists and moving out of harms way.

"Stop fucking pretending to know me! You don't know me!" she yelled, stumbling backwards. She turned away from him, kneading the heels of her palms into her temples, and screamed through gritted teeth. She swung to him again. "You think you're mister big-shot, playing the hero all the time," she sneered, tears welling in her eyes. "Well you're not the hero this time, and you can't help!" She turned and headed for the door. "Stop trying!" she threw over her shoulder, slamming the door shut behind her. He whistled softly, rubbing the tender spots in his chest.

Alex stormed back to her cabin, tearing away the strips of protective bandaging from her hands, which already had the purple flowering bruises across the knuckles. She threw herself on her bunk, muffling her sobs into her pillow. Sitting up and wiping her eyes, she wrapped her arms round her knees and stared at the blank wall. She sniffed loudly.

"Never lose your cool," she whispered, then chuckled ironically. She lay back to change from looking at the blank wall to the blank ceiling. She closed her eyes, and in moment was in an exhausted sleep, punctuated by bad dreams, unavoidable after days of insomnia – nights spent creeping round the ship and getting to know the guards on night duty.

When she woke, the clock told her it was just gone seven in the evening. She rose and rubbed her face. The sweat and tears had dried and made it feel prickly, so she splashed herself with cold water. Her knuckles ached like hell. Taking a deep breath, she left her cabin. She could hear movement next door and heard Lee's voice, and momentarily considered going in to apologise, but decided the son-of-a-bitch deserved it. He needed a reality check. She began to wander aimlessly, but was found by a Lieutenant.

"Ah, Captain Dagger, I'm glad I've found you," he smiled. She smiled, but looked blank. He stretched out a hand, which she took. "Lieutenant Gaeta, sir. I've been asked to take you to see the Commander and President."

"Right, well…" she glanced at her attire.

"You look fine, sir."

"Good. Well, let's go." She followed him down endless passageways to a conference room, where she was seated in front of Adama, Laura and their various associates. She greeted them and looked expectant. "Well, what can I do for you?"

"Well," Laura began, glancing down at her notes. "Commander Adama has informed me that you have yourself a fighter plane. A… an Arrow?"

"That's correct."

"And that you've expressed a wish to fly with our squadrons."

"I've expressed a wish to fly, certainly." There was silence. Adama watched her carefully through his glasses, his hands clasped in front of him on the desk. His face was weathered, pockmarked by the scars of teenage acne and the weight of wisdom. His hair was pepper-grey and short, his mouth turning down at the corners like his son's. Alex wondered what they had lost to make them so sad.

"Captain Dagger –"

"Alex."

"Alex," he corrected. "Do you understand the importance and responsibility of flying in our squadrons?" Alex chewed her lip. He sighed heavily. "Those fighter planes – the Cylon raiders. They are what we're fighting."

"I guessed as much, sir."

"Well, the reason we're fighting them is because of what they did to us. What they are still doing." Laura interrupted.

"Alex, first of all you must understand that the Cylons are not human. They are machines. And we created them." It took her a moment to comprehend this.

"You… you mean that those _things_ are your fault?"

"Now, hold on a minute," Adama protested.

"No, no, Commander," Laura placated. "She's technically quite right. The Cylons were created by us to make our life easier. But, fifty years ago, they rebelled. There was a war, which was ended by an armistice."

"I'm not following. If there was an armistice, why are you fighting them?"

"Well, a little over a week ago, after years of invisibility, the Cylons attacked. We had no warning, and billions of people were killed." Laura stopped and took a deep breath. "This fleet is all that is left of the human race." There was silence. Alex looked bewildered, as if she was about to say something, but stopped herself.

"Do you understand our motivations, Alex?" Adama asked.

"Fully, sir," she replied, standing.

"And do you still wish to fly?"

"With all my heart. Those machines killed my squadrons. I can understand it's not quite on the same scale, sir, but –"

"I understand, Captain." Adama rose and saluted, and she saluted back. "You're under orders to complete repair on your Arrow and join the fighters as soon as you can." She nodded and headed for the door. In the doorway she turned.

"One question."

"Of course," Laura smiled.

"If your world was destroyed, then where are you going?"

"Earth," Adama replied. Alex froze, the only movement a faint tremble in her hand. Her features stilled, unreadable.

"Thank you," she whispered, and left.


	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR**

Alex was rudely awoken by loud slamming bangs. She sat up sharply. Were they under attack? She yanked on her boots and ran out, looking this way and that. There was chaos, as people rushed about. No one answered her questions, until she saw Lee enter the bunkroom. She approached just as Lee burst out, nearly crashing into her.

"Captain Adama! What's happened?" she asked desperately.

"The water reserves have been blown up," he announced gravely, darting past her towards where she knew to be the CIC. She had yet to see it. She wandered around aimlessly, but, unable to get anymore information, she went down to the hangar deck. Work on the Arrow had been slightly neglected, as she had generally avoided the hangar deck. But she realised that the Arrow wasn't the source of her pain, it was the healing balm. At least… it helped. She opened the hatch on the underside of the right wing, where the damaged engine was. The space inside was so huge, it could fit two people lying down side by side amongst the wires. Taking the head torch from Tyrol, she hoisted herself inside.

"How bad is it?" he called up.

"Pretty bad. She's gonna need a whole lot of new wiring, it's burnt right through, and her tank is fried to bits. The gymbal's screwed too."

"Frakking gymbal's," Tyrol bit down a private smile. "What fuel does she take?"

"Tylium, like any other."

"Thank the Gods, I was worried she'd have a different fuel from the rest." An echoing laugh replied. He watched her boots wriggle as she toyed with the engine a bit. "Anything you can salvage?" he asked hopefully. "I'd rather repair than refit." Alex's oil-smudged hand appeared.

"Pass me pliers. Don't worry chief, I'll fix this baby up good and proper."

She could think better in the darkness and isolation. She occasionally spoke to Tyrol, but she preferred to have just her thoughts. She didn't know what was happening elsewhere in the ship about the water reserves, and at that moment, it didn't seem to matter. She could feel the enclosing safety of the Arrow, and felt more at home than she had in days. The smell, the sounds, everything about it was familiar and conjured up feelings of safety. There were voices out in the hangar, but she ignored them, until she felt a tug on her boot.

"Uh, Captain?" Tyrol called nervously.

"Yep?" Alex screwed her face up, trying to twist away the fried wires from the salvageable ones. It wasn't working.

"You've got visitors." Alex frowned.

"What?" She clambered out and froze when she saw Kara with two guards. "Oh." Kara grimaced as she approached her.

"I've got to place you under arrest," she told Alex, taking her arm. "Sorry."

"Forget it." Alex removed her head torch and wiped her hands on her trousers. "Place away, Lieutenant. I have a good idea what this is about."

"It wasn't my idea," she protested quietly as they made their way to the brig.

"No. I have an idea whose it was," Alex answered as she was led into her cell and locked in. The guards left, but Kara hesitated.

"I really am sorry."

"Sure," Alex replied, managing a smile. Once Kara had left, she sighed and rested her forehead on the cold bars. "Shit."

The group was arguing heatedly.

"I'm telling you, it wasn't her!" Lee announced for the fifth time.

"A few days after we pick up a stranger, our water supplies are spilt into space. A little too convenient, Captain," Commander Adama disputed.

"It was your idea to have her aboard, Commander," Laura added. "Besides, she's fully human, is she not, Doctor Baltar?"

"Hm, what? Oh, yes. Completely. All human."

"That proves nothing," Colonel Tigh interrupted.

"It proves _everything_," Lee snapped. "Tyrol said the explosion came from the inside, and that no human could withstand that sort of water pressure."

"Rerun the tests, Doctor," Adama announced.

"Of course, b-but I do have a few requests for you." Lee groaned, rubbing his temples. Every moment this was continuing, the water rations were causing more riots, and Alex was locked up.

"Look, her cabin is right next door. She was in there all last night."

"How can you prove that?" Tigh accused.

"I heard her! She was dreaming." There was silence. "She wants to join us against the Cylons. She was attacked by the Cylons. Her tests prove she's human. She's not a Cylon agent." Everyone absorbed his words, before he sighed in frustration and left.

He headed for the brig, where he found Alex sitting in a corner, arms resting on her knees as she twisted her fingers together. She looked up as he entered, and grimaced. He paused, resting his forearms on the bars and watching her.

"Should have known it was you. Still figuring it out?"

"I think I'm nearly there," he replied in good humour. "Sorry for you being here." She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Sure you are. Just like you care about me ripping out my stitches against a punch bag." Lee winced at the obvious dig.

"Look, I'm sorry about that, okay? And I really am sorry about this. It wasn't my idea. Commander Adama thinks that it would be best for you to stay here until we find the culprit." Alex didn't reply, just stared at a spot on the floor. "Look, you can help us," he offered. "You know the star systems around here, you can help us find water." She stared at him in obvious surprise.

"Why do you think I know anything about this area?"

"Don't you?" She shook her head. "Frak. We're having no luck and there are riots breaking out because of the water shortage." Alex shrugged.

"Not my problem."

"It will be when you die of dehydration."

"As long as I'm leaving this shithole," she answered coldly. Lee stepped back, a little unsure of what to say.

"You don't mean that," he whispered.

"Don't I?" She cocked her head at him and smiled icily. "Figured it out yet, Captain?" He growled and stalked out.

A couple of days stuck in the brig, and she was climbing the walls, he observed. He stepped forward so he could be seen, and she stopped doing crunches and looked up.

"We've found water."

"Lucky you." She resumed her crunches.

"I have a proposition."

"No thanks."

"Hear me out. The water is ice, and needs a team to work it."

"I don't do too well with an ice pick, Cappy."

"Frak me, you've got more attitude than sense," he snapped. She smiled benignly. "Look, I want you to come with me and a team of people across to the _Astral Queen_ to recruit prisoners to work the ice." Alex studied him.

"Slave labour."

"No. Volunteers." He sounded like he'd argued that point several times before.

"What's in it for me?" He shrugged, already unlocking the door.

"Nothing. Chance to prove yourself to the Commander." She stalked past him.

"Thanks, but no thanks. Rumour has it he's the one that put me down here, and I'm not about to go trying to gain his respect."

"Suit yourself. The team go first thing tomorrow, if you change your mind." She disappeared, and headed back to her cabin. She walked in and stopped, staring at her bed. Neatly laid out was her watch, dog tags, necklace and ring. On a piece of paper was written: _You need them more than me._ "Well, I'll be," she murmured, reapplying the jewellery.

Lee climbed onto the Raptor wing, secretly upset that she hadn't come. Billy Keikeya, the President's assistant, PO2 Dualla and specialist Cally were already aboard, waiting for him to lead them.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain," came a voice. He turned and grinned.

"Permission granted, Captain. Welcome." Alex grinned at him and settled herself next to him in the co-pilot seat. She stayed silent until they were approaching the landing bay for the _Astral Queen_.

"Thanks," she whispered. He glanced across to ask for what, but saw the gratitude and understood. He smiled, non-committal, and prepared for landing. They were led to an upper deck, looking down at the cramped cages. "Shit," she murmured, instantly feeling grateful for being holed up in the brig rather than in one of those boxes. Lee picked up the mic and took a deep breath, before announcing his proposition to the prisoners. Alex hid her smile of amusement at the lack of inspiring speech. With loud clangs, the doors were opened for volunteers to step forward. Silence. No one moved.

"We thank you for your offer, but we respectfully decline." Alex looked around for the voice. There; a dark-haired prisoner with the lines of confinement and conviction on his face, hands clasped serenely behind his back.

"Oh my Gods. That's… that's Tom Zarek," Billy gasped.

"The terrorist?" Dualla asked, stepping up to the rail and peering over. The other prisoners clanged their cups on the cages walls.

"Zarek! Zarek!" they chanted, the taunting noise rising. Lee turned, glancing at Alex before heading into the control room. They followed, and the door shut, muting the chanting. The old bus-man, zoomed a camera onto Zarek's cage.

"Who is Tom Zarek?" he asked curiously.

"A terrorist," Dualla snapped.

"He's a freedom fighter," retorted Billy. "A prisoner of conscience." He and Dualla immediately burst into an argument about Zarek. Alex ignored them, watching Lee as he thought carefully, watching the screens next to Cally, who was commenting on the time scale anxiously.

"What you thinking, Lee?" she asked, coming alongside him. He glanced to her.

"Zarek has the men," he said, turning to the others who went silent. "We go through Zarek." He made a move to the door. "I'm going to speak to him."

"That's not such a good idea, Lee," Alex argued.

"Why not?"

"I've got a bad feeling about Zarek." Dualla nodded in agreement. "At least… let me come with you. Or one of us come with you," she hastily added. Lee shook his head.

"No. I should talk to him by myself." He left, and Alex glanced to the others, whose faces mirrored her own misgivings.

"I'll watch out from up here," she said decisively, leaving the room and standing by the rail once more. She had a slightly obscured view of Zarek's cage, but she could see Lee's dark uniform, and that made her feel a bit better. He was _not_ going out her sights – bad things happened when she let people out her sights.

The guard was making his way along the rows. The prisoners watched him with mistrust as he passed, rapping their knuckles as he did so. The guard made his way up the steps, and called to a passing guard.

"It's your break," he announced, swinging his baton and knocking the other guard out. It took a split second for Alex to process that it wasn't right.

"Hey!" she yelled, darting for him. The baton clouted her face and stars burst in front of her eyes, her lip broke open and she grazed her arms against the gratings as she fell. Shaking her head to free herself of the dizziness, she saw the guard release the cage doors. "Shit," she hissed, and forced herself to her feet, diving for the stairs. The guard couldn't catch her, but she saw the swarm of orange overalls heading her way. Looked like she had to fight her way through all sixteen-hundred prisoners to get to Lee. The others could handle themselves – he was _not_ going out of her sights. "LEE!" she screamed as she collided with the first prisoner. His fists were sharp, but she elbowed him in the solar plexus and sent him to his knees. She battled her way through, but brute force against desperacy… it was a clear winner. She was so close – she could see him slam a prisoner against a cage wall in an attempt to reach the control room. Zarek was still in his cell, watching impassively. "LEE!" she yelled again. He looked up. He heard her! Damn, this guy was determined to dislocate her arm. She pulled against him as she used the palm of her free hand to break his nose. Someone grabbed her round her waist and pulled her back. "No," she grunted, kicking backwards to free herself. "LEE!" He'd gone down. Fuck, he'd gone down. They were kicking his face. Not unconscious, please God, not unconscious. They were pinning her arms back. She could feel blood trickling from her mouth, and the side of her face where the baton had hit was throbbing and swelling. The grazes on her arms were bleeding too – and she was sure her stitches in her leg had ripped loose. Still struggling, they forced her into a cell, throwing her against the back wall. She darted forward, but not fast enough as they slammed the door, narrowly missing her fingers. There were sounds of people coming down the stairs. She looked up. The others were being held at gunpoint, and put into cells next to her and opposite her. She watched as they half-carried, half-dragged Lee past them. She leaned as close to the bars as she could. She couldn't tell if he was still awake. "Lee," she called, slamming her fists against the bars. "I swear, if you've fucking killed him, I'm –"

"Shut your trap!" snarled a prisoner. He had a weasel-like look about him, with a goatee and thinning patches above his temples. Alex glared, but saw the gun in his hand and wisely obeyed. It would do Lee no good to get killed.

- - - - - -

"You can't be serious," Charlie cried, staring at Alex in disbelief. "Al…" She looked at him, defeat clear in her green eyes. He ran his hands through his buzz-cut sugar-blonde hair. His eyes were beautiful blue – cornflower blue – but now they looked grey. Alex felt a pain in her chest as she realised she had done this to him.

"What other choice do we have?"

"Leave! Leave the military."

"Oh yea, and where would we go?"

"We could get regular jobs –" Alex snorted. "We could! We… we…"

"Charlie. Do you see me in a regular job? Do you see _you _in a regular job?" Charlie shrugged and looked down at his chocolate milkshake. "Look, okay, so we'll be miles away from home –"

"It's unchartered space, Al."

"Okay, so it's _thousands_ of miles away from home. But, look, we joined the military for excitement, right?" Charlie nodded reluctantly. "This is the ultimate adventure! We get to explore the outer quadrants! Without Frasier."

"We're being sent there because we're disasters."

"We're not," Alex reprimanded sharply.

"We are, Al. We're flake-outs. Face it. They can't drop us from the military, so they do the next best thing – they hide us." Alex took a deep breath, stirring her strawberry milkshake with her straw. "Alex? If… if you agree to it… so… so do I."

"Really?"

"Really. I'm your wingman. Never leave each other behind, right?" Alex smiled and reached across the booth to clasp his hand. "It's just…" Charlie gripped her hand tightly. "I'm scared," he whispered.

"Don't be. I won't let you out of my sights, okay. Nothing will happen to you as long as I can see you. Besides, what's out there to hurt us?" He didn't respond. "Hey – you're never going out my sights, right?"

"Never," he repeated, smiling nervously at her. She leaned across and kissed him softly. "Never," he murmured against her lips, and they laughed.


	5. Chapter 5

**FIVE**

Cally was pretending to sleep in the cell next to her. Dualla and Billy were murmuring quietly to one another opposite her. Alex paced her cell anxiously. Nothing. Nothing had happened at all. The freed prisoners stalked up and down the aisles of cages, armed. She was going to go crazy!

"Hey. Hey!" she beckoned one of the prisoners. "Can I get a drink?"

"No can-do. There's a water shortage, sweetheart," he smiled tightly. She glared.

"No shit," she muttered once he had walked out of earshot. She glanced at her watch. Three hours. Three fucking hours! She looked up to the shut door of the control room. Lee was up there. What were they doing to him? The weasel-man came back and crouched next to Cally. Alex ignored what they said, trying to bore holes through the control room door with her eyes, and when she looked again, Cally looked tense and the prisoner was walking away, his stature tense. She shot an encouraging smile to Cally, who didn't return it. They were all getting overwrought. Two minutes later, the man returned. Alex watched closely. He was angry, and everything Cally said just seemed to provoke him. He snatched her neck and led her out the cell. "Shit," Alex hissed, straining to see where they had taken her. Her view was blocked by prisoners. She looked across to Dualla and Billy, who had both paled. Billy definitely wasn't holding up as well as they were. He wasn't used to high-stress situations. Yet. He soon would, Alex figured, being the President's assistant. He was yelling for Lee. Like he could hear.

Minutes dragged. Alex had resumed her pacing. Billy was interrogating Dualla on what could be happening to Cally. A scream. Alex threw herself against the door.

"CALLY!" she yelled.

"Oh my Gods, oh my Gods," Billy muttered. Alex threw herself against the door again, but it just shook the cage. A shot.

"Fuck." The pounding of feet. She looked up. Lee! He was following Zarek down the stairs towards Cally. Noise echoed around the deck – boots against metal and the shouts of prisoners and click as safety catches were switched off. She strained to see what was happening, but was obscured by prisoners still.

"You locked him up! You made him the monster!" She heard Zarek yell, then the voices dimmed again. Dammit, she couldn't make out a word. There were shots – several in quick succession. The prisoners all cocked their guns towards the commotion. Dualla glanced across to Alex, who had turned deathly pale.

"You think they shot him?" Billy whispered.

"No," Alex snapped. "Don't say that." He blushed. There was silence apart from the distant voices. Alex leaned herself against the cage, mutely urging it to give way. A familiar voice broke out.

"Medic! I need a medic here!" It was Lee. But in reply, there was a shot that ricocheted off the bars. "HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Lee yelled, and Alex could see his hands in the air, sidearm loose in his fingers. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief, resting her forehead against the bars.

The squad of 'rescuer's appeared, led by Kara. They were dressed in full flak gear, and Alex silently thanked God that it had never resorted to that – they would have all been killed for sure. Moments later, once a medic had been found for – it now appeared – Cally, Lee strode along the row and let Billy and Dualla out. Blood trickled from his right eyebrow, and there was a cut on his chin and left cheekbone. The right side of his face was already swelling impressively. He turned and opened Alex's door, grinning at her. She laughed, reaching up and brushing some of the blood away from his eye. She rubbed her fingers on her trouser leg with a sudden, joking grimace.

"You're a mess," she announced. They were so close, she could smell the faint tang of his blood and sweat, and feel his body heat rolling off him. He glanced her up and down with a chuckle.

"You look pretty frakked up too," he quipped, taking her hands and twisting them to see her grazes all up her forearms. She laughed, which trailed away as they realised their proximity. He let go and they both stepped back. "So…" he cleared his throat. "Shall we go?" She nodded, and followed him up the stairs. She fell into step with Billy, just behind Lee.

"You alright?" he asked quietly. Not quietly enough, Alex noted the twitch in Lee's head as he listened. She forced a smile.

"Yea, fine, why?"

"Well… you seemed pretty freaked out back there."

"I'm fine," she said repressively, and quickened her pace, past Lee, climbing into the co-pilot seat before Billy could phrase his next prying question.

They sat on beds next to each other. A medic was seeing to Lee's wounds, cleaning them with antiseptic, which was making him wince every other dab of the pad. Connell was, once more, re-stitching Alex's leg, making his protestations very clear. Alex rolled her eyes over his broad shoulders at Lee, who grinned, then winced.

"This cut by your eye will need a couple of stitches," the medic announced, dropping the bloodied pad in a bin. Lee shrugged.

"Sure," he replied. Adama entered, and Lee stood to attention.

"I'd stand, sir, but…" Alex waved a hand at her leg.

"Not to worry, Captain. As you were," Adama answered and Lee sat again. He took a deep breath before continuing. "President Roslin requires your presence on the Colonial One, Captain Adama, as soon as you're ready."

"Yessir. I'd like to request that Captain Dagger accompany me."

"What?" Adama and Alex chorused, both as surprised as the other.

"Well, sir, she is a Captain, and she should be treated as such. Isn't that what you said the other day?" There was a pause.

"You're right, I did." He rubbed his pockmarked chin carefully. "Captain Dagger, once you're ready, find Lieutenant Gaeta and he will get you a uniform. Then you will accompany Captain Adama aboard the Colonial One."

"Yessir," Alex answered unsurely, saluting. Adama saluted back, span on his heel, and left. "What did you do that for?" she hissed at Lee. He shrugged.

"You should be recognised as a captain."

"I'm not a captain any more – I don't see my squadrons." Lee winced as the medic injected anaesthetic near his eye.

"Once your Arrow is ready, I expect you to fly with the Vipers." Alex raised an eyebrow. He sounded so sure of himself.

"My Arrow isn't nearly half done. It's gonna be a while before she's ready to go anywhere, let alone fly against those machine-things with your Vipers."

"Cylons," Lee quietly reprimanded and shot her a smile. "Well, it's your chance to get used to Colonial protocol."

The uniform needed a few adjustments, but it looked okay. Alex grimaced at her reflection in the mirror. How had she ended up here? In Colonial military uniform, God knows where in the God-knows-what universe with aliens that looked and acted and practically _were_ human. She fiddled with a button on her tunic, before groaning and leaving her quarters. Lee was waiting outside, took one look at her and had to swallow a smile. She glared, pointing a warning finger.

"Not a word," she snarled. "It's all your fault. Let's just get on with it."

"Of course," he said, ill-hiding his humour. They boarded the Colonial One moments later with Commander Adama, and were led up to the 'Presidential' quarters. It was clear that this had once just been a passenger ship. The Presidential quarters were sections of the ship, hidden from view by curtains. Laura came out to greet them, not hiding her surprise at the sight of Alex very well, but shaking her hand nonetheless. "Madam President, I believe you have already met Captain Dagger."

"Indeed, good to see you up and well."

"As well as I can be, Madam President," Alex replied, and caught the smirk as Laura turned away. "If it's alright, sir, I'll wait out here."

"Yes, thank you," Laura looked relieved to not have to make the decision. Alex understood that she was still too new to be privy to everything in the fleet. She settled herself into a leather seat for a wait.

The wait wasn't long, and she rose as Adama and Lee came back in. Adama walked away, but Lee sat opposite her, a grim look on his face.

"What was it about?" she asked nervously. He laughed shortly.

"They wanted to discuss me agreeing to Zarek's terms."

"You did _what_?" He shrugged.

"Zarek wanted the President and her government to stand down and have re-elections. I gave them run of the ship and agreed to elections."

"I'm sorry, I think I misheard you, you _agreed_? Look, where I come from, people don't negotiate with terrorists." Lee glared.

"Neither do I. But, in seven months, law states there should be elections anyway. President Roslin is only completing Adar's term. And I've disarmed their ship and made them completely dependant on us for everything." He suddenly laughed. "Why am I justifying myself to you?" Alex clenched her jaw and glared.

"You're out of your mind, you know that?"

"So I'm told." She shook her head in despair. "Captain Dagger…"

"Alex. What?"

"Alex… I overheard you talking to Billy earlier." Alex rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine."

"Actually… I spoke to him. He told me how much you tried to help." Alex laughed sharply and stared at him, shaking her head slowly.

"I didn't do anything." Lee looked about to object, but then thought better of it.

"He said that you freaked."

"I was stressed, we all were."

"You're avoiding the subject."

"Your point?" she snapped, standing and looking away. "It was a stressful situation, and I tried my best to help, but I couldn't. At the end of the day, that didn't matter anyway. End of story."

"I saw you." Alex looked confused. "When the prisoners were freed. I heard you and I looked up and you were trying to get to me."

"I didn't want you dead – you were the only one who could fly the Raptor back."

"That's the only reason?"

"Yea, why?" she asked, looking suspicious. He shrugged and looked at his feet.

"No reason… I just… you looked freaked."

"Well, I wasn't." Adama entered at that moment. They stood to attention.

"Ready to go in two minutes, captains."

"Yessir," they chorused. Lee glanced to Alex as Adama left, then went and knocked on Laura's compartment. He entered, and she slumped back into her chair with a huge sigh. She mouthed curses under her breath, berating herself over and over again. When she got back, she was heading straight for the gym. She needed to vent some emotions. Then she could work on the Arrow.

When Lee reappeared, he was pale and quiet. Alex tried to get out of him what was wrong, but he avoided the questions, and she gave up. Back on the _Galactica_, she headed for the gym and pounded the punch bag for fifteen minutes before doing weights for a further fifteen. Sweating, out of breath and emotionally exhausted, she went to the hangar deck for some light relief in the engine of Golden Bird.


	6. Chapter 6

**SIX**

Lee hadn't seen Alex around much – she was getting better at avoiding him. He cornered an orange-suited specialist as they darted past, asking if they'd seen her. They nodded and pointed towards the hangar deck. Tyrol was standing next to the right wing of the Arrow, arms folded and a bemused smile on his face. Lee approached him, mouth already shaping to form the question, but he forgot it as he heard what was amusing Tyrol so much.

"C'mon baby… right there… yes, that's it… c'mon… yes… yes, yes, _yes_!" came a muffled voice from inside the Arrow's wing. "Chief!" the voice called.

"Yessir," Tyrol glanced knowingly to Lee.

"Jump up in the cockpit and check the computer for the right engine's picket." Tyrol moved away, and Lee ducked under the wing. He could see Alex's boots hanging out of the hatch. He stifled a laugh.

"Ah… Captain Dagger?"

"Yep?" The boots disappeared, to be replaced seconds later by Alex's oil-smudged face. She cracked a grin. "Well, hello there," she quipped. "What can I do for you?" Lee patted the underside of the wing.

"Just checking how she's getting on."

"Great, sir. We've salvaged most of the engine and figured out what's wrong with the gymbal, and –"

"Picket's online, Alex!" called Tyrol from the cockpit. Alex's smile widened.

"And the picket's fully functional." Lee mirrored her smile of joy. "Care to take a look?" she enquired. "There's enough for two." She winked as her head disappeared again. Lee, glancing down at his uniform, yanked off his tunic so he was just in his tanks, and hoisted himself in. She was right, there was enough room for two… just. It smelt oily and hot, and the wires hung down like ribbons around him. She had moved to one side, and he shuffled up next to her, her head torch shedding light on her current project. "See here?" She pointed. "This is the main connection to the picket, which is over there. The wires here and here had been fried and thus shorted the connection here. Once we'd fixed that, we realised the picket had reset itself, which is why I used this handy little computer to redo all the codes. That light on the picket shows it's online." She spread her hands out, eyes alight with childish excitement. "Ta da, one fully functional picket."

"Good work, Captain."

"Alex."

"Alex. What's next?" Stretching over various pieces of the engine, Alex pointed.

"That's being replaced, which should rectify the gymbal, and I have to figure out which wires work the tracer. Then it's a simple matter of reinforcing this side of the Tylium tank, topping her up and then fixing the landing gear."

"How long will that take?" Alex shrugged.

"Depends what state the tracer's in. Couple of days? Maybe a week more for the landing gear. I checked the wires and they need completely replacing, otherwise they could break at any time and bye-bye landing gear." She scratched her nose, rubbing more oil onto it. Lee laughed. "What?" she asked bewildered. He indicated his own nose, and she self-consciously rubbed at the stain, which just made it worse.

"Uh, Captains?"

"Yea?" they chorused, looking between them, where Tyrol's head had appeared between their feet.

"CO wants to see you both in the CIC." They shared a look, then simultaneously shuffled backwards and dropped to the hangar deck. Alex grabbed a shammy-cloth from nearby and vigorously rubbed her nose. Lee wiped his hands clean and replaced his tunic. Alex looked sorrowfully down at herself. She was covered in oil stains.

"I'm a mess," she groaned. Lee laughed.

"Commander won't mind if he knows you've come straight from the Arrow." She groaned with dismay, and followed him to the CIC.

The room was huge, and clicked and whirred and buzzed with computers and activity. Adama looked up when they entered, evidently surprised to see the state of Alex's attire. She stood to attention, pointedly avoiding everyone's eye.

"Ah, good. Captains." He cleared his throat. "How ready is the Arrow, Captain Dagger" Alex chewed her lip.

"Nearly done, sir. Few more days, she should be ready for a test run."

"Good… Good. Well… I was discussing with President Roslin what should be done about… uh… the situation… of-of two senior captains." Alex had seen this coming, and felt her insides plummet. She wasn't even one of them, and they were stripping her of her rank already. "We agreed that it would be… be best if we kept two captains." Alex nearly fainted in shock. So did Lee. "You must understand, Captain Dagger, that Captain Adama is CAG on this ship, and is ultimately in charge of you. But we agreed that stripping you of your rank was… wasn't politic. So, you are under the command of Captain Adama, but shall keep your title."

"Yessir… thank you sir."

"Don't thank me," Adama muttered. He wasn't quite comfortable with the situation yet. "You shall have the same access as officers of the Battlestar, but you must remember you are under trial conditions. One slip up and we shall reconsider the arrangement."

"Yessir, I won't let you down sir." Adama nodded, pouting his lower lip in thought and turned away from them, the conversation clearly over.

"Dismissed." They saluted, and left, silent with shock. Lee stopped, and held out a hand. Alex shook it, still bewildered.

"Well… uh… I think I should congratulate you," he said.

"I… I… I don't know," she laughed. They grinned, and then Alex cleared her throat, staring at her boots. "I'm… I'm just gonna go back to the Arrow."

"Sure. Let me know how it goes, won't you?"

"Yea, yea." She darted away, blushing furiously – and wondering why.

-

The next time he saw her, she was in the gym, sparring with Crashdown. He rested on the wall, watching as time after time her punches got through. With a grunt, Crashdown found himself on the flat of his back once more. Alex laughed through her gumshield, reaching down with a gloved hand and hooking his arm to pull him to his feet. Brushing her sweat away with her arm, she reset herself.

"C'mon Crashdown," she teased. "Give me something challenging." He jabbed at her, and she easily blocked it. "Is that it? C'mon!" She right-hooked him and he stumbled backwards. She laughed. He glared.

"Not funny," he said, spitting out his gumshield. Lee stepped forward.

"Let me have a go," he offered. Crashdown shrugged, glad to be handing the gloves over. He was done being embarrassed. Lee stepped onto the mats, placing in his gumshield and doing up his gloves. Alex twitched an amused eyebrow.

"Well, well, Captain. My hands are free this time. Let's see what you got." They began, their feet shuffling across the padded floor, their hands in combat position. Alex clenched her teeth against her shield, pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth and forcing her breathing to slow. Concentrate, she thought, he'll slip up. She grunted as his first punch got through, and Crashdown, observing, whooped. Okay, concentrate! She twisted and went low, following it with a quick upper cut. Neither got through. Every other one of his aims were getting through, as were hers. They were evenly matched, until someone slammed the hatch door, and Alex lost her concentration. "Oomph!" she groaned, hitting the floor with a thud. She coughed, out of breath, and took out her gumshield. Lee grinned down at her. "That hurt," she squinted up at him, and he looked a little chastised. He reached down to help her up. "Ah, such a gentleman," she said, taking the hand and yanking hard. He fell with a yelp and she burst out laughing, as did Crashdown, who applauded the scene. She rolled over, patting his chest as she got up. "Unfortunately, I'm not."

"Oh," Lee chuckled, getting up too. "Dirty tactics." Alex spread her arms and shrugged. She replaced her shield and rose her hands.

"Okay then, Cappy, let's have another go at this." They began again, blocking each other's punches. Quickly, she swung her leg up, and her eyes widened in surprise as he caught her foot. He flashed a wicked grin. "Oh no, you wouldn't." With a quick jerk, she was on the flat of her back. "Son of a _bitch_," she cried, as Lee stood over her with a triumphant smile. Kicking her out legs, she took him out at the knees. Leaping over, she pinned him to the floor. "Alright, buddy, now you're getting it."

"Bring it on, Captain," he challenged. They leapt up, not noticing that they had attracted two further spectators.

"What's going on?" Kara asked as she walked in.

"Alex is taking on the Captain," Tyrol answered.

"Who's winning?" Flat-top interjected, setting down his weights.

"No one yet, but I reckon Alex will have him," Sharon said. Alex thumped Lee round the chin and he took a step backwards. She grinned, a flash of blue gumshield. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and stepped forwards.

The sparring began to get faster… Alex and Lee blurred together as they punched and blocked and spun. She stepped close, twisting a foot behind his ankle, taking a clout to the temple for her efforts, and pulled him over. Lee yelped in surprise, grabbing her and taking her down with him, her bodyweight almost knocking the air from him. They laughed breathlessly, his head tilted back against the floor, the loose strands of her hair tickling his neck and their chests bumping together as they strained for breath. She looked down at him, her green eyes glinting.

"Well," she murmured round her shield, "this is a compromising position." He looked at her, his gloved hands still resting on her upper arms. There was a hesitation, as they realised their proximity, before she quickly sat back, clearing her throat and looking towards the spectators. "Show's over, folks," she announced, climbing to her feet. They moaned, but left one by one, as Alex took out her gumshield and untied her gloves slowly, shoulders rising and falling heavily.

"That's it? Captain Dagger, giving up," Lee teased, standing. She shrugged, still turned away from him. "C'mon, you're not a coward."

"Nope," she flashed a smile over her shoulder, "I'm not." She walked off the mats.

"So where are you going?" he called after her.

"Shower!" She disappeared. He groaned, undoing his gloves and hanging them on a hook. He took out his gumshield, and picked up a bottle of water, dousing the blue rubber before guzzling some himself. He could feel the heat rolling off his body, and decided that a shower was exactly what he needed.

He entered the washroom as Alex was dressing. She wore just her bra and pants, her hair dark and wet, pinned up. She glanced up.

"Hey," she smiled. By the Gods, she had a good body. He could see the faint ridge of her ribs against her pale skin, her flat stomach toned and dipping in at the waist and out at the hips. Her legs were long and firm, the muscles in her thigh clear. Her back curved easily with her spine, a black tattoo at the base of her neck moving as her shoulders flexed. It was a bird. A phoenix, rising from black flames.

"Hey," he replied, pulling off his sweaty tanks and wandering towards a shower booth. She pulled on her trousers, determinedly looking away. Christ, he had a good body, she could see his muscles pressing against his skin, curls of hair across his chest and on his lower abdomen, his hip bones curving down towards his trouser-line. She pulled her tank top over her head, and sat on the bench to put on her boots. Lee took off his trousers, leaving them crumpled on the floor, shortly followed by his boxer briefs. Alex blushed, and fumbled with her laces, not daring to even glance up until she heard the frosted glass door of the shower booth close. There was a hiss as he started the water, and she quickly rose and left.

"Shit," she muttered as she wandered back to her cabin. "_Shit_." She sped her pace, and shut the door quickly behind her. Leaning against it, she concentrated on controlling her breathing. She dropped her sweaty clothes on the floor and darted to her bed, lifting the thin mattress to retrieve the photo. She stared at it, her fingers gripping to it as if it were life itself. She slumped onto her bed.

- - - - - -

The timer ran out, and the camera flashed and Alex blinked to dispel the bright dot of colour blurring her vision. She looked up at Charlie, whose strong arms were linked around her waist, holding her close. He was smiling at her.

"Last day on Earth, Charlie-boy," she chirped. "How does it feel?" He leaned his body in closer, and she raised an eyebrow.

"Fantastic," he murmured, leaning down and kissing her. She kissed him back, smiling against his lips as he reached down and undid her jeans, pushing them to the floor shortly before his followed them. He began to unbutton her shirt, his mouth following his fingers. She closed her eyes, running her hand through his hair.

"Charlie," she whispered.

"Mmm?" he looked up. She nodded her head towards the camera. He glanced at it, and groaned. It stood on its tripod, the red timer light blinking again as it reset itself to automatically take pictures.

"I don't think Greg would be too pleased to see these photos."

"No," Charlie acknowledged, reluctantly moving away and switching the camera off. He turned and grinned wickedly, picking her up around her waist and laying her gently down on the rug. "Where was I?" he said, his breath tickling her skin around her belly button.


	7. Chapter 7

**SEVEN**

Alex cursed as she twisted her fingers amongst the wires. She glanced down to the hatch by her feet, where Tyrol's head was waiting nervously.

"Tracer's gone," she sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "We're gonna have to take it out and completely rework it. At least the wires are salvageable." There was a sudden commotion, and Tyrol's head disappeared. Alex shuffled backwards on her elbows and dropped out of the Arrow's wing. She ducked her head to look beneath the Arrow out at the scene. Flat-top was on other pilots' shoulders, a sash announcing '1000' around his torso. The pilots were chanting, and Alex grinned, making her way round the Arrow. As Flat-top was lowered into a wagon, she winked at him and mouthed her congratulations. He raised a hand in acknowledgement as the other pilots began to spin him in the wagon. She folded her arms, and leant against the solid form of Golden Bird. Tyrol noticed her and approached.

"You wanna get the tracer out?" She shook her head.

"In a minute." They were spinning Flat-top faster and faster, the laughter roiling up in a spiral with it, the chanting weaving a thunder of noise in the hangar. No one ever heard it hit the floor and set itself. With a hiss, it shot into the air. Alex and the spectators noticed it a second before the condrone flew into the wagon and exploded.

The force shoved Alex's head into the Arrow, and sparks burst in front of her eyes. She could smell fire – burning. Burning flesh and screams. She shook her head, trying to free her vision and collect her scattered thoughts as she lifted herself from the floor. She swore as she saw the mess. A specialist nearby had his arm alight, and was desperately patting it out, yelling in pain. She looked around, the hangar flashing red as the fire alarm set off. People were running about with hoses, dousing the flames. She darted forward as a pilot crawled out of harms reach. She knelt beside him, hoisting him up by his armpits.

"Medic!" she yelled. "Medic!" She had to help… She led him away from the fire, towards the stairs out. She looked up and saw Adama, Lee and Kara appear. Lee had a helmet under his arm, and she could see the still-wet red paint marking out the number '1000'. Kara and Adama darted past her to help, but Lee paused.

"You alright?" he asked, glancing her up and down for injuries.

"I'm fine. Where's a medic?"

"Coming." He looked at the wounded man. "Take him straight to the sickbay, we'll need as much help as we can here." She nodded, moving to help the burnt pilot up the stairs. As they reached the top rung, Alex looked back. Lee was checking the pulse of a specialist, who lay sprawled a few feet from the blast. He seemed to feel her gaze, because he looked up and smiled encouragingly.

She was pale, her green eyes wide with shock and confusion and fear. She looked so vulnerable, helping the injured pilot, leaning him against her to take his weight, her arms barely reaching round. His heart skipped a beat, and he was stunned to realise that what he wanted to do most was help her right at that moment. He swallowed the instinct down with guilt, and turned away.

-

There were black scorch marks spreading debris across the hangar deck. Alex shakily made her way down the stairs, swallowing hard. Thirteen pilots dead… seven injured… she felt sick. She'd just left the funeral. Flat-top was one of the dead. Alex had stood through the ceremony staring at the flag that covered his body, finding it hard to comprehend that just yesterday morning she'd been playing cards with him. She'd left as soon as the ceremony was over – she wasn't meant to be a part of it. She made her way mechanically towards the Arrow, reaching up and touching a deep score along the wing. She took a big, gulping breath. She had been so close to… no, don't think about it.

"How is it?" asked a soft voice. Lee was watching, his eyes carefully clouded to hide his churning emotions. She managed a shaky smile.

"Couple of dents and scratches, nothing that she hasn't had before." He nodded gratefully. He touched a scar on the metal.

"And… how long until she'll fly?"

"I've got to rework the tracer, I've reinforced the engine tank and nearly fixed the landing gear, then it's just a matter of filling her up with ammo and fuel and she's good to go. It'll be a few days." He chewed his lip, letting his hand drop to his side again. There was silence, Alex beginning to wander round the Arrow, checking it over with steady hands and critical eyes.

"I'm going to arrange a team to work on it for you. I want her ready for combat as soon as possible."

"I'm the only one who knows my way round an Arrow," she protested.

"The repairs you need to make are standard to any model of fighter plane. They'll be fine doing it themselves."

"So what will I be doing?"

"You will be joining other trainees under Lieutenant Thrace for combat training." Alex stared at him, a muscle in her cheek working as she gathered her thoughts.

"I am perfectly capable of combat flying, Captain," she said quietly, carefully.

"I would still like you to attend."

"I don't need to learn how to fly a Viper, Lee, I'm flying Golden Bird, and I've fought in her before." Lee looked away.

"This is not a time to disobey my orders."

"I'm not disobeying, Captain," Alex snapped. "I'm not going to combat training like some nugget. I can fight. I know this Arrow inside out, I can fly her better than any of you can imagine."

"I'm not disputing that fact, Captain –"

"Teach me the codes, show me the formations, that's fine, but I'm _not_ doing flight school." There was silence as they stared at each other.

"What is this about, Captain?" he asked quietly. "Is it that you resent being put with nuggets under the instruction of a Lieutenant?" Alex snorted derisively.

"I have no superiority complexes, if that's what you're aiming at."

"Then what?" She stepped until she was inches from his face, her anger flickering in her green eyes as she glared at him.

"You might be CAG, Lee, but you are not mine. You cannot treat me like I'm part of the Colonial Fleet when I'm not," she hissed. "I am Captain of the red squadron in the Starfighter Fleet. And no amount of combat training will make me any different. I'm _not_ one of _you_." She brushed past him and stormed out the hangar deck. Lee waited until he heard the hatch door slam shut to yell out a roar of frustration, and pound his fist on the wing of the Arrow. The second he thought he was getting through, she shut down. By the Gods, he hated that woman!

"Uh, Captain?" Lee looked round. Tyrol stood at the foot of the stairs, looking guilty at being in the wrong place at – apparently – the wrong time. "C-Can I have a word?"

"Sure, what's the matter Chief?" Tyrol approached, coughing self-consciously.

"Permission to speak off the record."

"Granted." Tyrol stared him in the eye, took a deep breath, and said:

"Don't be such an asshole to her." Lee blinked in surprise. "She's acting out because you're trying to force her into something she doesn't want to do."

"She's on this ship, and has to pull her weight, just like anyone else," Lee snapped angrily.

"She _is_ pulling her weight." There was a pause. "I want to show you something," he said, climbing onto the wing and beckoning to Lee, who reluctantly followed. "Sit in the cockpit." Lee obeyed, sliding into the seat with ease. It was comfortable and supportive, moulded to the shape of his body, hugging him in comfortingly. His legs went either side of the stick, feet resting against pedals hidden beneath the computers on the dashboard. "In the well for your right foot, there's a hollow behind that computer." Lee reached round, and his fingers closed around cold metal – it clinked as he touched it, and he carefully unhooked the object and pulled it out. It was a set of dog tags – like Alex's, and not the familiar shape of the Colonial Fleet's. "She thinks I don't notice, but sometimes she just sits there and looks at them," Tyrol said quietly. Lee turned them over in his hands. They were engraved with a name and number:

C. Harper

4117029

He frowned, something ringing recognition in his head. "She seems so distant when she looks at them. I think they're part of her… her past life," Tyrol continued. Instantly, he knew what he was reminded of.

"_CCHHAARRLLIIEE!" the radio screamed, and the static flared angrily around the word, fizzing at the edges of pain._

"Charlie," Lee murmured. Tyrol frowned in question as Lee replaced the tags in the foot well and hoisted himself out of the cockpit. "Thank you, Chief. But one thing," he said as he jumped down and headed for the stairs. "Don't ever call me an asshole again, or you'll be in the brig."

"Noted, sir," Tyrol smirked.

Thankfully, the rec. room was empty, as Alex stamped over to the jugs of water, pouring some into a glass. With shaking hands she gulped it, forcing the tears away from her stinging eyes. She slumped into a chair, and pulled the photo from her trouser pocket. It had crumpled a bit, but his face was still clear and cheerful. She ran a finger over it, remembering the feel of his skin against her own. Her tears gathered in her throat tightly, hatefully.

"Who's Charlie?" Her head snapped up, and she sneered.

"Haven't you done enough?" Lee shrugged and stepped towards the table, sitting down and resting his hands on the tabletop.

"Who is he? Red Two… Charlie." Alex took in a loud breath. Trembling fingers pushed the picture across towards him, and he picked it up carefully. Two smiling faces looked back at him. Alex and Charlie stood on a picnic rug in a garden, Alex leaning into his chest, their arms wrapped around each other's waists, cheeks pressed against each other. Charlie was tall and well-built, his dark-blonde hair cut short and his bright blue eyes framed by long lashes. He had slight dimples. He wore jeans and a green tee shirt, Alex with her hair loose about her face in jeans and a white shirt. Lee had never seen her with her hair down – always in a plait or ponytail or pinned up. She looked so beautiful with it down.

"Lieutenant Charles Harper. My wingman," Alex explained. She laughed quietly. "We were each other's twelfth – he always used to say 'lucky twelve'." There was silence. "We knew each other from military training. We were always doing the same sort of thing, always around each other. We were put together after…" she stopped herself. "He was my best friend." He could hear the anguish in her voice. Charlie was more than just her best friend. "Have you ever lost someone?" she asked, her voice breaking, and Lee looked up from the photo to see tears streaming down her face. The look in his face told her that he had. "Someone you really care about, more than anything else?" Her body wracked suddenly in hiccupping sobs. He darted round the table to a chair next to her, pulling her against his chest and hushing her, a hand stroking her hair, his own tears quietly running down his cheeks. "I loved him so much," Alex cried into his chest. Lee looked down at the crown of her head – she was so desperate to hold onto her past, because it was the only thing she had left of Charlie. The Cylons had done that to her. He already knew what he would do, though it screamed against his common sense.

"I'll talk to the commander about getting you out of combat training."

-

Commander Adama looked at his son as if he'd gone mad. He _had_ gone mad, it was the only explanation as to why Lee was saying what he was.

"You don't want Captain Dagger to go through combat training?" he echoed weakly. Lee at least had the audacity to blush slightly.

"Yessir. In all fairness, she is a captain and as such knows basic combat procedures. Lieutenant Thrace will give her all the codes and formations – the practical application is already there." There was silence as Adama continued to stare, perplexed.

"Why?" he asked. "Why don't you want her in combat training?" Lee opened and closed his mouth. Adama waved a hand and turned away. "No, don't answer that. I want you to give her the codes. But I also want Lieutenant Thrace to accompany her on a practice flight when the Arrow is ready."

"Yessir," Lee answered, knowing he should be grateful for the little, begrudging compromise the normally stalwart Commander had given. He saluted, which was returned, and left. The next part was giving Alex the news.

Predictably, she was with the Arrow. There were three specialists re-wiring the landing gear, whilst she sat with another in front of a small computer. She had rigged it up to the tracer and was typing in codes with a deep look of concentration. He approached, and she looked up. He saluted, which Alex and the specialist returned. Alex stood and brushed dirt from her trousers.

"How can I help you, Captain?" she asked.

"As soon as the Arrow is ready, I want you to have a test run with Lieutenant Thrace, see how it flies and how you react with the new tactical formations." He handed her a handbook, which he'd picked up from CIC on the way past. She flicked through it, and nodded, clearly approving.

"No problem, sir. The Arrow should be good to go by tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning?" he sounded surprised and Alex grinned.

"The tracer's not so bad, and most of the work on the landing gear is done. She needs Tylium and ammunition and that's it." Lee grinned in appreciation.

"It'll be good to see her in action."

"Sure will. Though she might not fly as good as she used to. The Chief had to take some of the new software out – not Cylon-friendly, he said."

"Bound to happen. We fly Viper Mark two's because our best planes – Mark seven's don't work against Cylon technology."

"Ouch."

"More like 'boom', actually, when the Cylons got hold of them." They managed wry smiles – both had seen the devastation the Raiders could inflict. They both turned at a sudden commotion – Kara had appeared with the nuggets. She looked tense and unforgiving as she ordered them to get flight suits.

"Hey," Alex whispered. "She's not going to be like that with me when we do a test run, is she?" Lee chuckled.

"Don't count on it," he answered, and walked away. She swallowed hard, feeling for the nuggets being commanded into their planes with the pale faces of those meeting their fates. She didn't fancy it much.

- - -

Hours with the Arrow made her tired, hot and thirsty. Alex headed for the rec. room to refill her water flask. The nuggets burst passed her, muttering angrily amongst themselves. She grabbed the arm of one.

"Hey, what's happened?"

"Lieutenant Thrace washed us out," the rookie replied furiously. "After only one day!" Alex blinked in surprise.

"Wow. I'm… I'm really sorry." The nuggets just harrumphed in reply, and left in a tight group, still expressing their angry remarks. She turned and headed once again for the rec. room, positively shaking at the thought of her turn with Starbuck. She went to step in the open door of the room and froze.

"… It's about Zak," Lee was saying heatedly to Kara. Kara's jaw clenched, and she stepped up to Lee, her face inches from his.

"Careful," she hissed. There was a tense moment, and Alex wondered if she'd have to break them up.

"Step back," Lee murmured dangerously. After a hesitation, Kara obeyed, storming out the room, brushing shoulders with Alex. Lee's face morphed into obvious disbelief and then relief. He turned to see Alex, and blinked in surprise.

"What was that about?" she asked, stepping into the room and heading for the water jugs. Lee opened and closed his mouth.

"She washed out the nuggets."

"I heard." She paused to take a swig of water. "Who's Zak?" Lee froze and stared at her, his face unreadable.

"Zak was my brother," he eventually conceded. "He died."

"And she blames herself for that?" Alex probed.

"She should!" Lee spat. "She was the one who… never mind."

"Lee," Alex said softly. "Tell me." She gently tugged his arm and led him to a seat. He obediently sat down, all his resistance and energy suddenly gone. He slumped in the chair, avoiding her piercing gaze.

"She was his flight instructor. He died in combat training." At the silence, he continued. "When… when the Cylons were attacking, Kara… she… she told me that Zak had failed basic flight. She passed him anyway. It was her fault he was there."

"Why did she pass him?"

"They… they were a couple."

"She loved him."

"Yes."

"Then… don't you think she feels bad enough without you blaming her too?" Lee finally met Alex's eyes. "It's obvious she washed out the nuggets like this because she feels guilty about Zak. Thing is… thing is…" At this Alex faltered, and swallowed hard, fighting her own feelings. "Your world… your people… they've been massacred. Okay, she made a mistake, but… but you need those pilots. You need to forget the mistake. Need to move on. Don't forget Zak. Just… remember him alive, not dead." There was silence. Lee's eyes were such a blur of emotion, she wondered if he was about to hit her. He slowly rose.

"I've got to go and see the Commander," he said tightly, beginning to walk away.

"Lee, I'm sorry, I was out of line," Alex said after him.

"Yea, you're right, you were," came the only reply.


End file.
